[Short Story] Untitled Apocalypse

10:47 pm. Sunday

I sit back against the couch pondering the emo kid and wondering if the tears sliding down his mascara are real or just an effect he was going for. He's not looking at me. He's not really looking at anything. I think he might be tweaking.

10:54 pm. Sunday

She enters the room flipping out. I've never seen her before, but it's not me she's interested in. She approaches Emo-boy and tears off the headphones strung around his neck from behind. She's screaming at him about some phone call. Apparently it freaked her out. It must have, cause when she sees me looking on in curiosity she doesn't hide her worry. Instead she addresses us both.

11:01 pm. Sunday

She works at an all night sushi hut. I wasn't even aware those existed. I can honestly say it never occurred to me to ask. She's waiting for a response from either one of us. I'm not sure what she wants. There isn't any reason not to assume it was just a prank call. Emo apparently feels the same way. He's talking to her by name. I guess she's a Gertie. Who the hell is a Gertie anymore? I didn't think those had existed since the 19th century, and even then only older woman. I guess that's two things I learned tonight.

11:10 pm. Sunday

Intriguing development. Emo kid has taken offence to that label. Apparently he's just a goth. I got nothing against either really, just didn't realize there was that much of a difference. Gertie is sitting down in a chair now talking into a cellphone. She's pulled herself into as tight a ball as she can. She's trying to find someone who believes her. Goth\emo boy is pacing around. He's trying to decide if he should drive her home or humor her. Instead he sits back down, trying to listen in on the one sided phone call.

11:17 pm. Sunday

The clock is ticking down. If she's right, we should be leaving now before it's too late. She's managed to work her friend up into a lather. Emo\goth is clearly torn. He's halfway convinced that she's right. But when he looks at me, I remain seated quietly. I wonder if it would help him decide if he knew I thought she might be right, I just didn't care. I'm not there to convince anyone of anything.

11:25 pm. Sunday

We're in his car now driving down some back road or other. He grew up here, says it's a faster way out of town. I'm in the backseat not talking, numb from the insanity. I know it was tough decision for them to bring me. They had to weigh taking me along versus how I was freaking them out with my apathy. If they knew my childhood, they might understand me better. I've spent my lifetime expecting this. We're almost passed the city limits now. Only a few more minutes left if she's right.

11:31 pm Sunday

The car is stopped. Gertie's wandering around dazed; blood protruding from a huge gash over one eye. Emo\goth boy's seat belt split apart on impact, he's resting against the steering wheel, either unconscious or dead. I am still sitting in the backseat. I'm looking at the tree the car is wrapped around. Goth\emo may have known the back roads to take, but bald tires on a gravel road are no guarantee of anything.

11:36 pm. Sunday

She turns around her eyes wide and full of terror. I don't look. There's nothing there for me to see. The sky is starting to brighten behind me. I can see the edges of a green light flooding around me. It lasts no longer than a minute before everything is darkened again.

11:40 pm. Sunday

Gertie is sitting on the ground sobbing and rocking back and forth. Her friend is dead, I'm pretty sure. Though, I've never been good at finding a pulse. Maybe there's still a chance. But it's not for us to find out. I kick out the back window so I can get free of the twisted cage. For a moment as I climb out I'm facing the city. There are worse things to see than the fire climbing the sky, but I don't want to think about it.

11:43 pm. Sunday

She doesn't want to move. I've tried to convince her that we need to get moving, but she's frozen up. She keeps looking from her friend's body back to the flames. Finally I pull her to her feet and we start running. We head into the woods, leaving the road behind. I suspect, leaving more than the road.

11:45 pm. Sunday

The middle of the of the forest can no longer be called that. There are giant holes everywhere. There's the sound of buzzing and we look to the sky. They look like giant black clouds with tendrils preceding from them at all angles. After a dazed moment I realize they're roots trailing from mounds of dirt. The sky is full of them. Trees floating through the night sky. I would never have guessed it was hidden among the roots.

11:46 pm. Sunday

I hear the voices of people, crying out. It's starting to rain now. Somehow it always rains when the world ends. It rained the last time the world ended. It'll rain the next time too. Gertie and I sit at the edge of a giant hole, letting out feet dangle into the gaping mouth.

11:47 pm. Sunday

She would like me to tell her that everything will be alright. I tell her, not just for her sake, but for my own. I need to hear the words one last time myself. One last white lie. The truth is I know nothing will be alright. In an hour from now, nothing will be.